Star Wars: Insurgency
by ChillifyVilify
Summary: Kastan Enderbeck is leaving Anoat, towards his next mission. But while on the way, the Empire gets in the way, and now he's stranded on the watery world of Manaan. Join Kastan, HK-47, and T3-M4 as they try to survive the catastrophe hurtling towards them. Part 1 of the Enderbeck Schism.
1. Chapter 1

**It's been a long time, I know. Look, I'm trying here. But high school is being annoying due to EVERYTHING EXISTING (Still a bit salty about that), so I had to shut down my account. However, I figured I would give one last story, and it's my worst one yet. R &R, R&R.**

 **DISCLAIMER: Is my name George Lucas? No. Am I Walt Disney? Also no. Therefore, I don't own STAR WARS.**

 **BTW: Vader is probably OOC. Deal with it.**

 **Part 1: The Fall**

 **!0*0!**

Kastan Enderbeck slouched back in his seat. Soon he'd be off this planet and start getting things done. Brenda, his sister, had neglected to come; she had decided to stay on Anoat a few days ago to study some 'potentially incredibly beneficial life-forms burrowing around under the surface'. She had refused to travel with him to his 'voodoo-magic meetings' anymore.

"Well, look where it got you. Right here, studying worms. Having the time of your life. I got you here with my 'voodoo magic', Brenda!" Kastan had argued the other day.

"Exactly," Brenda replied cooly. "Only strengthening my case to stay. Besides, with things to do and a grant from Coruscant, I have an excuse to not attend another voodoo-magic meeting."

"The True Light," he said angrily, "is not 'voodoo'! The Force is in all of us, even you. You know, maybe you should have accepted my offer to join! Then you'd understand!"

"I don't trust things that I can't touch. If one can't touch it, it doesn't exist. Who needs magic when I have a trusty blaster at my side?"

"You're strong in the Force, but have you ever heard of a blaster Jedi?"

Brenda thought for a moment.

"No," she finally uttered.

"Exactly." Kastan said with an air of finality.

She glared at him so furiously that he gave up.

Brenda Enderbeck was a stubborn woman; maybe that contributed to her complete self-sufficiency. Whilst Kastan often required assistance in terms of brute strength, Brenda was rather well-rounded; sensible, strong, and intelligent. However, Kastan's prowess with the blade and the Force meant that he, not she, had become True Light Master.

A beeping noise disrupted his thoughts. He turned to see T3-M4 trundle into the cockpit of his ship, the Ebon Hawk. Both were relics of the ancient past, but they worked as well as any droid of ship, if not better.

"Beep-oop boop beep!" T3 squeaked happily.

"Yes, Hello, T3. What's up?"

"Boop-weep beep beep woop!" it replied.

Kastan smiled. "Glad to have you aboard. Are you sure you'd rather not stay with Brenda, though?"

"Boop-oop?"

"Of course you do. This isn't up to me."

"Boop." T3 slowly exited the small cockpit.

While T3-M4 belonged to both siblings, Kastan understood that it preferred Brenda's company to his own, just as HK-47, Darth Revan's old personal assassin droid, preferred him to her.

Speaking of which, where was it?

Had HK decided to stay on Anoat with Brenda?

To Kastan's relief, HK-47 remained erect in the control hub- exactly where he always was.

"Statement: HK-47 is ready to serve, master."

Kastan rolled his eyes. HK always referred to him as its "Master"; as for why, he had no idea.

"HK. If I am your master, I order you to stop calling me Master. Understand?"

"Answer: Of course, master."

"HK, we were just through this. Don't call me that."

"Qualification: Don't I? I was under the assumption that organic meatbags such as yourself enjoy such forms of address."

"HK. That's even worse than Master."

"Query: Uh, as much as I don't like you being angry with me, master, calling organic meatbags organic meatbags is quite amusing."

"You just called me an organic meatbag again!" Kastan fumed.

"Extrapolation: Did I say that out loud? My apologies, master."

"Just stop calling me master, Kastan sighed, exasperated.

"Statement: I am unable to comply with that command, as much as I'd like to."

"HK, you're impossible."

"As you desire, master. Signing off."

Its dark red color gave a somewhat sinister leer to its features. HK-47 had originally belonged to Darth Revan nearly four thousand years ago, and experience told it was quite adept with any firearm. Being seven feet tall and having a mostly humanoid body, it was incredibly intimidating. T3, on the other hand, was innocuous enough, looking like a satellite dish on a rolling tripod. However, it was integrated with two pistols, which it used to great effect.

The Ebon Hawk lurched under his feet; T3-M4 must have taken the controls. Honestly, Kastan was glad no one was in the room, as he had nearly collapsed at the sudden acceleration.

He checked the emergency supplies, which were full. He checked his personal torpedo storage- all of them ready to go if need be. He had T3 check the sole on-board cannon: functioning well. The hyperdrive operated normally, they had enough food and water, medpacs, everything in working order.

"T3, plug in hyperspace coordinates for Dantooine," Kastan said absentmindedly, watching Anoat fade away into the void of space.

"Beep," T3 replied.

To someone looking on from outside, the ship would appear to have rocketed off into the distance at an impossibly fast speed. To those within, everything around moved backwards so quickly that it blueshifted in front and redshifted in back, giving a gradient from black to blue to white to red to black. Hyperspace was beautiful, so beautiful that many ships came installed with special "screen protectors" so that people weren't caught up in the beauty of the stuff and not actually drive the ship. To Kastan, who constantly jumped from planet to planet to planet, it was merely a transition, from one life to another.

The trip would take scarcely two hours. That would be roughly enough time to eat a meal, practice his blade technique, listen to the Empire drone on about curfews, practice using the Force, reprogram his holotable to resemble a fancy wooden one he had seen on Alderaan, teach T3 and HK manners, and maybe add Anoat to the Galaxy Map. Possibly even relax, but the odds of that were slim.

 **!0*0!**

Aboard the Ebon Hawk, Kastan only had time to eat before they exited hyperspace above the ocean world of Manaan.

"T3? Are you sure you put in the right coords? Because I'm pretty sure this isn't Dantooine."

"Boop-oop weep," it replied indignantly.

"Well, then, what happened? Falling out of hyperspace isn't exactly easy, you know."

"Commentary: I believe I know the answer to that question, master," HK answered, pointing up.

Kastan moved to the window, looking out. Suspended in space was a Star Destroyer, the flagship of Grand Moff Tarkin himself.

They had found him.

All Kastan could find in his mind to utter was, "Oh no."

 **!0*0!**

"Sir, these ship codes match those of the Insurgent's vessel," the ensign said shakily.

"Send for Lord Vader, and deploy all TIE Fighter's immediately. We can't risk the Insurgent escaping this encounter."

"Yes, sir."

Grand Moff Tarkin gazed out at the miniscule vessel, painfully obvious against the stark blue of the watery world below. If he failed to capture the Insurgent, the emperor would have his head for sure.

Already, he heard the screeching noise of TIEs scraping across the fabric of space-time towards the Insurgent's ship. He would have to note the ensign's efficiency at getting things done.

His thoughts were interrupted by another ensign.

"Sir. Vader's TIE has arrived. He is heading directly towards the Insurgent's vessel."

"Good," Tarkin replied absentmindedly.

 **!0*0!**

"T3, man the wheel and try not to get us shot. HK, take the gun turrets. I'll try Battle Meditation. Go!"

Kastan had the rare ability to use a Force technique known as Battle Meditation, although it had been far more rare a long time ago. When used, Battle Meditation implanted feelings of bravery and confidence in allies while removing the will to fight from the enemy. It may sound stupid on paper, but this ability had saved Kastan's life many a time. However, it required intense metaphysical concentration, so it could not be used in the midst of lightsaber combat, or in any other stressful and/or distracting area/situation.

Slowly, he let go of all distractions, but a blast rang out before Kastan could start. It was accompanied by a small explosion that sounded all too familiar."

"Not the hyperdrive!" he yelled.

The hyperdrive had become an unidentifiable lump of metal; a shot from a TIE must have hit it.

"T3, HK, the hyperdrive's out. Our best shot is to try to land on Manaan. I think the Selkath built some kind of floating city. T3, try to set us down there."

"Boop-weep!"

"HK, can you figure out which one did that?"

"Answer: I think it was the one with the curved winglets, master. What importance that has, I don't know."

"Great, it's Vader… that actually explains a lot."

Another shot landed home; even Kastan's prototype shield generators wouldn't be able to take much more.

"Boop-weep bap boop!" T3-M4 shrieked as it trundled out of the cockpit.

"What to you mean, you've lost control of the ship?!"

"Translation: I believe he is trying to tell you that he's lost control of the ship, master," HK-47 chimed in.

"Yeah, thanks, HK," Kastan sighed. "Everyone into the escape pod!"

Everyone clambered into the all-too-small escape pod as another blast found its target.

"Launch," Kastan ordered sorrowfully.

The escape pod jettisoned from the Ebon Hawk just as its deathbell rang. The little pod had been rocked by the shockwave, and was now hurtling directly towards Manaan at unprecedented speeds.

"Reflection: It was nice knowing you, master."

 **!0*0!**

"Sir. The Insurgent's craft has been destroyed. No evidence of anyone inside at the time of destruction. We did, however, pick up an escape pod moving very quickly towards Manaan.

"What are the odds of survival?"

"If the craft hits Ahto directly, the survival chance for occupants is approximately 24.7235827% If it hits water, however, the odds of surviving the immediate crash are closer to 52.297120082%, but the chance of actually managing to get back to Ahto City are around 5.543%."

"Thank you. You may go."

"Yes, sir."

 **!0*0!**

"Whoa!"

"Woop!"

"Commentary, we're probably not going to survive impact!"

"Gee, thanks, HK!" Kastan replied sarcastically.

"Beep-eep woop. Boop, beep, boop…"

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

A tremendous force abruptly pushed everyone inside the escape pod towards the ceiling; they had landed. Kastan, noting that he was still breathing, realized that they had survived, somehow.

"We beat… the odds, somehow!"

"Boop-weep boop beep bap woop… beep weep."

"Water? Is that what we landed in?"

"Weep."

"Analysis: it appears that the flotation device you installed failed, master."

"I never installed a flotation device."

"Extrapolation: It would appear so, master."

They were sinking, slowly and dramatically, under the surface of Manaan.

 **!0*0!**

Vader landed in Ahto City, the only solid platform on Manaan. His objective was simple: find and capture the Insurgent, alive if at all possible. Finding him, however, would be incredibly difficult.

"Fan out and find the Insurgent. Leave no room unchecked, regardless of what anyone says. Remember, we're looking for a male human, called Kastan Enderbeck, height 5' 5", and has obvious Jedi robes. This shouldn't be hard to miss, even to the most oblivious." he took a moment to glance at the stormtroopers amassed in front of him. "He's accompanied by two droids, one an ancient T3 unit, the other a blood red assassin unlike anything seen before."

Vader turned his back on the troopers in front of him as they saluted with a "Yes, Lord Vader!" and exited. Turning again, he was astonished to note groups of Rebel Alliance soldiers, as plain as day, standing and chatting as his troopers walked around them, completely oblivious. They clearly saw Vader, but paid him no heed. The Sith Lord began to pull out his lightsaber.

"My lord, you kinda can't do that here. Selkath regulations dictates that any violation of the peace on Ahto will inevitably result in hefty fines and a cut from the all-important kolto harvest, which is used to make bacta. You know, the stuff in medpacs that makes them work," a shadow trooper interjected, materializing from the shadows. "It's only found on Manaan, which makes it completely and utterly valuable to any war effort. Makes the native fish-heads so arrogant that they think they can maintain an unaffiliated pacifist world in the middle of a war for the galaxy. Embarrassingly, they can. I thought everyone knew abo-"

Vader instinctively lashed out with the Force momentarily forgetting the Selkath laws. Upon remembering, he immediately rescinded himself and stopped Force Choking the trooper.

Fortunately, the Rebel Alliance soldiers didn't notice.

 **!0*0!**

A silhouette struck the ocean floor, spewing a great deal of grit in an ellipse around the firaxan corpse. This was all witnessed by Shelkar, a Selkath researcher on the Rebellion's secret underwater base. She reluctantly summoned her crew of six to collect the dead Firaxan shark for research.

Interestingly, the corpse seemed to be attracting very little attention. Judging by her past experience, half the shark would already be eaten by scavengers and other firaxans. She shrugged it off as just a lucky find, but upon closer inspection, it was easy to tell something was off. Reason the first, little attention from other animals. Reason the second, it was beaten almost beyond recognition. Reason the third, the thing was made out of metal. Reason the fourth, there was a human pounding desperately on the metal of the pod.

 **!0*0!**

T3-M4 saw them first; a group of Selkath wearing bright yellow enviro suits were approaching the practically destroyed pod. The firaxan sharks swirling around the escape pod paid them little heed; perhaps it was the yellow? It didn't matter. Questions could be answered later.

"Beep boop! Beep boop boop bee-doop weep!" T3 shreiked.

"Really? Selkath in enviro suits?" He glanced outwards, easily notifying how many Selkath _were_ coming. He counted seven.

Kastan began pounding on the metal wall in hopes of getting their attention.

"Analysis: We appear to have just enough fuel to reach their position, Master."

Kastan stopped, then turned around slowly. "We… had fuel… this entire… _time_?"

"Answer: I was too busy trying not to be squished into scrap metal by a particular T3 unit to pay attention to the fuel gage, Master."

"Fine, HK. Just use it. We're not getting much more mileage out of this thing anyway."

 **!0*0!**

Shelkar noticed the pod beginning to move, using its last wisps of fuel to shorten the distance between them and itself. She had to appreciate the bravado of who or whatever was inside.

The fuel was short-lived, however; she could tell they had ran out by the telltale shudder of the engine. However, the pod remained floating above their heads; what force kept theme there, she had no idea.

 **!0*0!**

Kastan sat absolutely still; had he not been sitting up and breathing, albeit very softly, HK-47 would have sworn he was dead. Channeling the Force took deep and undisturbed concentration, HK had learned over many assassinations and combat scenarios. It still remembered systematically destroying an entire Empire labor camp all on his lonesome… Those were the days. And it had been so long since it had added to its staggering kill count...

HK had also learned that certain Force Powers took less time to take effect than others, combative Force Powers being the shortest to work, while passive telekinesis took the longest, depending on the circumstances.

The pod drifted through the ocean towards an opening in the facility, intended for submarine access. Its mangled tip broke the surface of the water, and its oxygen levels refilled. Kastan's eyes immediately rolled up into his head and, utterly depleted from his enormous Force ordeal, promptly fell unconscious.

HK-47 had seen this happen to many Jedi during its long career as an assassin droid; as they used the Force, they gradually lost the ability to use it. However, it took almost no concentration to regenerate it while not in use. When under extreme duress, a Force-wielder could call upon vast amounts of the Force, with minor backlash like nausea or tiredness. When pushed to the absolute limit, it could even knock one out cold, as it had done to Kastan himself.

 **!0*0!**

Shelkar peeled off her enviro suit and proceeded to scan the pod for survivors. Her eyes immediately locked onto the only organic life-form in the escape pod itself- the unconscious human on the floor that she had seen before.

Turning to the menacing, blood-red, seven-foot droid lounging casually in the back, she asked, "Wot happned do heem?" in her best attempt at Basic.

"Explanation: Over use of the force in a dire situation rendered him unconscious," it replied nonchalantly.

"Zhat sound bahd. We will take too infirmuhree."

"Boop-beep weep boop!" the other droid, which she had thought was a table at first glance, said indignantly as it trundled out of the mangled escape pod.

"Shh! Quiet!" She scream-whispered in her best basic possible.

"Query: Why?" the other droid asked.

"He needs rehst, yoo wil dezturb heem."

"Qualification: My master will be fine, either way. Addition: You can speak your native Selkath; both my master and myself can understand it perfectly.

"Thank goodness, I'm terrible with Basic," she replied gratefully. "But did you just… call him 'Master'?"

"Qualification: I am not at liberty to divulge this type of information to an organic meatbag such as yourself," HK said with an imaginary sneer.

"... Organic… Meatbag."

"Interjection: Don't even try it; I'll splatter your brains all over the floor, then have T3-M4 drive through it," HK threatened, upon seeing Shelkar's face begin to fill with rage.

"Boop-oop weep! Beep boop da-weep!" T3 chirped, almost pleadingly.

"You know, you're pretty bloodthirsty for a droid," she said sarcastically.

"Qualification: Of course I am. Even droids such as myself must be allowed to have a little fun every once in awhile."

Having made its point, HK stalked out of the pod.

"Hang on a second," Shelkar said.

HK paused, then turned.

"Query: What are you going to waste my time with now?"

"I'm going to ignore that. But seriously; overuse of the Force? Is he a Jedi or something? I thought they all died out."

"Answer: Ask him when he wakes up; he will explain it far better than I.

"Fine," Shelkar replied, rolling her eyes.

 **!0*0!**

The stormtroopers accounts were all the same: Failure. The Insurgent had seemingly disappeared off the face of Manaan.

The last stormtrooper arrived much later than the others. As far as Vader could tell, he showed no shame.

The trooper practically flew across the room, over the heads of his compatriots and into Vader's extended fist.

"You are late," Vader boomed. "I do not tolerate insurgencies within any squadron. Where were you?"

"P-permission to speak freely, sir?" the trooper asked.

 _Oh, now he respects authority._ "Permission granted."

"I was investigating some leads, sir."

"Care to share?" Vader asked, a mocking undertone all but dripping from his words.

"If I'm correct, the Rebel Alliance has a _highly illegal_ underwater facility, Lord Vader.

"How did you acquire this information?" Vader asked, softly.

"We've been tracking frequent and regular submarine signals to a specific location, and unusual power signatures coming just off Hracket Rift. We know the pod almost hit Ahto directly; I had the ensigns calculate the velocity, gravitational pull, spin velocity, every possible variable. When they're all plugged into a holodisk, it shows that the overall trajectory points almost directly at the facility. Therefore, the Rebels probably know if the Insurgent is, in fact, at the facility as of this instant. If I have led you astray, you may do whatever horrendous act you deem worthy upon myself."

Vader was mildly impressed, almost like watching a dog perform a mediocre trick for the very first time. He had never heard of a stormtrooper being capable of anything beyond getting shot on their own.

"Impressive. But since you discovered this on your own, I will expect you to complete it on your own. Understood?" He said, almost silently.

"Y-yes, Lord Vader."

"You are dismissed. Not the rest of you," he added, glaring at the stormtroopers near the back who were about to exit.

He saluted erectly before Vader dropped him unceremoniously on the ground. The trooper's cohorts quickly made a path for him as he marched outwards.

After another hour of chastising and reminding the stormtroopers what they were doing, Vader followed the lone trooper, willing to see how he infiltrated the base.

 **!0*0!**

GRG-892 marched down the streets of Ahto City. Having just been sent on an exclusive mission courtesy of Lord Vader himself, he was keen to deliver. Citizens took little notice of his presence, as he was merely a stormtrooper, not much of interest.

A few minutes later, he was there, the Rebel Alliance's insignia looking like a swan in flight.

As he tried to enter the base, metal detectors - _metal detectors!_ \- blared. GRG-892 silently added this to his ever-growing list of Reasons why I Hate the Rebellion. He froze as he was swarmed by Rebel Alliance soldiers, who patted him down for weapons, only to find a small communicator.

"What brings a trooper to Rebel headquarters?" a woman asked haughtily.

"My name is GRG-892, and I'm a defect from the Empire," he replied, trying to feign sheepishness. "I request refuge at the underwater base."

The woman took a step back, subtly biting her lower lip. "How do you know about the facility?"

 _So I was right_ , he thought.

"To be completely honest, we've known for a while. We're just waiting to turn you all in," GRG ad libbed. "The Selkath would not be happy with your… ahem… _choices_."

"I see," she replied, a bit less coldly than before. "And you request the underwater base to get away?"

"Yeah, sure. Can I go down now, I'd rather not waste time."

"Yeah, sure," she mimicked. "Let's go."

She hoped that he didn't notice the recorder she had delicately placed on his back.

 **!0*0!**

Vader watched the 'defect' walk slowly into the Rebel Base, accompanied by a woman. It must have been Hsiu Wann, the woman in charge of the Rebel activities on Manaan. He had to marvel at the Rebel's innocent stupidity as they gave him his communicator back.

For the millionth time, he cursed his automatic breathing system. He quickly moved west, towards Empire headquarters, to avoid any unwanted hostilities.

His mind, however, was burning with a single question: How would he get into the facility to get to the Insurgent without breaking any Selkath laws and ultimately jeopardizing the Kolto trade? By the Force, he hated this planet. Vader quickly realized that he needed an actual reason to be in the base… perhaps as the swift hand of justice that swats the fly on the wall.

 **!0*0!**

"Query: Why did you let one of _them_ down here?" HK-47 asked rudely, jutting its head towards GRG-892.

"Chill out, you oversized, misinformed protocol droid. He's a defect from the Empire. Cut him some slack," a rebel soldier replied.

"Extrapolation: I don't trust organic meatbags as a whole, and that rule is doubly so towards stormtroopers. Did you at least remove any and all weapons? Communicators?"

"He didn't bring weapons, and his communicator was too small to pierce the miles of water above us."

"Query: Just keep-"

"If you don't shut up right now, I'll throw you in the trash compactor and there will finally be peace down here."

"Protocol: I'd rather you not do that; it would be a waste of my genius engineering."

"Then shut up," the soldier said, ending the exchange.

GRG-892 glanced at the Rebel gratefully, then glared at the droid behind him with vehemence.

 **!0*0!**

Too close, in his opinion.

GRG-892 racked everything Vader had said concerning the appearance of the Insurgent. Male human and two dro-

" _... the other a blood red assassin droid unlike anything you have ever seen before…"_

The suspicious droid from before was bloodred enough, and it was completely foreign to him. However, it may have merely been a incorrectly build or programmed security droid. That would explain the paranoia. He'd have to confer with Vader about it over the communicator.

"This is where you'll be staying," a Selkath continued as he droned on and on and ON about his accommodations. They certainly weren't luxurious, but it was comfy, homely, and devoid of all life.

Perfect for communicating with Lord Vader in secret.

The Selkath had left; he had left GRG-892 a map of the premises, presumably so he did not get lost. He smiled evilly.

This was just too easy.

 **!0*0!**

"Really? How are you sure of this?" Judge Kindoh asked. The Ahto lawmaking body, made up of five elected Selkath known as Judges, served to settle disputes amongst the Rebellion and the Empire.

"I assure you, the Rebel Alliance do, infact, have an underwater facility and are mining vast amounts of kolto directly from the seafloor," Vader replied.

"Didn't Revan blow it up four thousand years ago? There have never been repairs to that site," Judge Hosaxu said.

"Either the rebels reactivated it, or the Empire is lying to us," Judge Quashi said. "Personally, I do not believe the Empire is lying."

"Quashi, these are Sith. We know what they are capable of. You do remember what the Sith did during the Great Sith War, correct?" Judge Biado retaliated.

"Yes, I do remember. But we mustn't hold old stereotypes against new Sith, no? It's true that Darth Malak allowed for heinous acts to be committed against the Selkath people, but Vader is not Malak," Judge Quashi replied cooly. "Now please, Vader, explain how you will deal with this crisis?"

"My plan is an ultimatum; let me and my troopers enter the underwater base, or face dire Kolto cuts. Discipline must be enacted.

"While there, I will deal with the Insurgents, destroy the kolto harvesters, and come back here, with the villains in tow."

"Let us vote," Judge Kwysekra announced."

A day passed as they deliberated. When they returned, they announced their verdict. They would offer Vader temporary rights to trespass Rebel territory on behalf of illegal kolto exportation. They refused, however, to let Vader bring any stormtroopers along with him, as "he was dangerous enough alone."

As Vader left, plotting how to smuggle in stormtroopers, each more complex than the last, hsi communicator buzzed.

"Sir. Phoenix Squadron has landed on Manaan; what they're doing, I have no idea. They've been making mysterious inquiries on Tatooine, Kashyyyk, and Korriban, all in the companionship of the Insurgent."

"Good. Draw them together, and they are all the easier to swat."

"Yes, Lord Vader," the ensign said hastily before ending the communication.

Immediately afterward, the communicator blared again.

"Who is it this time?" Vader said angrily.

"My lord, this is GRG-892, the trooper you sent into the underwater base."

"Ah. Have you any news on the Insurgent's whereabouts?"

"I have good new and bad news."

"Tell me," Vader said."

"The good news is that I believe I found the assassin droid you alluded to when we got on the planet," GRG said as he watched T3-M4 trundle by his room. "And I just found the T3 unit. I have a map of the facility, and if I had to guess, the Insurgent would either be in the main barracks or the infirmary. The bad news is that I don't actually know the Insurgent's exact whereabouts, and the assassin droid suspects my lie, that I was a defect," he finished, practically gasping for breath.

"Excellent. If you survive this, I will personally recommend your services to the Emperor himself."

GRG ended the communication, giddy about the potential promotion. Rarely did a stormtrooper get a promotion; it would appear that he had been forgiven for his failure.

 **!0*0!**

Kastan awoke, groggily. His eyes, however, refused to open, regardless of how hard he tried. He heard a constant beeping noise which robbed him of any concentration. They must have placed a neural restrainer on me. Then again, who was 'they'? The Empire? Kastan could break through most neural restrainers; what was going on?

Slowly, he noticed people talking.

"He's been brain-dead for twelve hours. Should we cut him off?"

'Cut him off?' What did that mean? Could it…

Oh, no.

Light finally flooded his vision as his eyes opened.

So he wouldn't die after all.

"Statement: We really shouldn't, Shelkar," HK-47, who had apparently been in the room the entire time, replied.

"Whyever not?" The Selkath, obviously named Shelkar, asked.

"Answer: He's awake. Just look at him."

She turned.

"I never doubted it for a second," she said hastily.

"Protocol: You clearly wanted to cut -"

"He doesn't need to know about that," Shelkar whispered angrily.

"Already did," Kastan said weakly, all too aware of the slur in his voice. "Relax, though. I'd have done the same thing in your position."

The Selkath researcher visibly relaxed.

"Now that that's settled, can someone please explain where I am?"

"You're in a bed," Shelkar replied wryly.

"I realized that. I mean, what is this place?"

"The infirmary."

"The infirmary _where_?"

"Explanation: She'll keep this up forever, she's been doing it to T3 for the past hour.

"Explanation: We are currently in an underwater base, originally owned by the Republic during the Great Sith War. Obviously, it's been inhabited by the Rebel Alliance as of late. Such a facility is highly illegal, so if the Selkath authorities on Manaan ever found out about the base's existence, we'd be dead.

"Addition: Don't trust the defect."

"HK! For the millionth time!"

Kastan regressed under the consciousness of his mind, hardly listening to Shelkar and HK bicker on and on, T3 having materialized out of pure nothingness to try and calm them down. He was angry at himself, if the Empire attacked now, he was a very dead man.

Little did he know, it was just outside the door, listening to everything.

The first domino in an intricate setup of events, circumstance, blind luck, and psychology, began to fall.

 **Once again, I apologize if this is terrible beyond belief. Also, hi there! I hope you're reading this, because this is kind of important. Updates on this will be VERY sporadic. Expect the next chapter sometime around Christmas.**

 **This is a 4-chapter story, and I wrote it frantically in eighth grade. Please don't kill me if it's terrible, which it probably is.**

 **Also, if you happen to work at Disney, I have two questions for you:**

 **1: Why are you browsing Star Wars Fanfiction and not doing your job?**

 **2: Is there any way to add Kastan Enderbeck to the mix of Star Wars?**

 **No seriously, I really want to know. You don't even have to pay me, just take the idea and use it. Say someone on the developer team came up with it or something, I just would really like Kastan Enderbeck to exist in the canon Star Wars Universe. Review with #KAS4SW if you agree! (Make sure to read the entire fanfic though! (By which I mean all four chapters!)**

 **Anyway, dalies and mentlegen, this is Professor Zerkxes, over and out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well. Here we go again. This should be pretty self-explanatory by now. Therefore, I'm going to cut to the chase. Sorry for terrible plot and stuff, but KAS4SW, DAMMIT!**

 **DISCLAIMER: See the last Disclaimer. Still hasn't changed.**

 **PART 2: The Cataclysm**

The _Executrix_ sailed through space, relentlessly orbiting Manaan.

"Sir, the Star Forge is operating at 227% capacity, far beyond our expectations. At this rate, we'll be at our objective in about a week.

"Good; the Emperor will be pleased with these results. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

Grand Moff Tarkin watched the ensign disappear into the chaos of the bridge. Once there, he sat down at one of the computers and began furiously typing, inputting commands to regulate the ship as a whole.

Meanwhile, Tarkin himself powered up a small holodisc, ready to give a status report.

"My lord, the Star Forge is operating at 227% capacity, far beyond our expectations. We will have enough warships for Operation in seven rotations."

"Good," the Emperor's gravelly voice emanated. "Everything is occurring according to my design. Report on the Insurgent."

"We have trapped the Insurgent in an underwater facility. However, we have not pinpointed his exact location, forgive me."

"You will have it by the next status report, in five know the penalty for failure. The consequences, are are blatantly obvious, are dire."

The Emperor abruptly ended the communication, leaving Tarkin to fret about his predicament.

 **!0*0!**

"No."

"Come on, Shelkar!" Kastan said angrily. "I honestly feel fine, so can I get out of this goddamn infirmary?"

"No! I've already explained this a million times. Also, would saying 'please' kill you?"

"Commentary: I've seen this happen to many a Jedi, but none lived long enough for me to properly observe the side effects."

"How did they die? Enlighten me."

"Answer: Uh…"

He had assassinated them, of course, on the whim of his previous masters.

"Fine," she snarled, glaring at HK. "On one condition."

"Name your price," Kastan replied boldly.

She laughed. "You humans are so brash. HK promised a story out of you, and I see fit to collect. So who, really, are you?"

 _Today is going to be a long day_ , Kastan thought.

"My name is Kastan Enderbeck, from Alderaan. Separated from my family by the newborn Empire, escaped to find my family dead, crashed in the middle of the Dune Sea, discovered the True Light-"

"The True Light?" Shelkar interrupted.

"- became the True Light's leader, shot down on Manaan, ended up here. Happy now?"

"No. What's the True Light?"

"Everyone asks that," Kastan replied. "The True Light is basically the beta version of the Jedi, formed in the midst of the Great Jedi Purge. As opposed to simply devoting ourselves to one side of the Force, we seek balance between the light and dark sides, although some of our order prefer to specialize in a particular side The first to truly believe in our teachings was Jolee Bindo, a long-past Jedi who lived during the Jedi Civil War. He believed that love wasn't such an evil thing, and that everyone believed the Jedi to be flawless when they were obviously not, et cetera. The Jedi, being the Jedi, dismissed him as a heretic but STILL kept his holocrons in their vaults. Then… the Great Jedi Purge happened.

"The Keeper, I believe her name was Jail Nash, fled with as many holocrons as she could carry; one of these happened to be that of old Jolee. With his teachings, she founded the True Light. When she was assassinated by the Empire, I rose to replace her. Happy now?"

"No, because I still barely know anything about it," Shelkar protested.

"Do you really want me to keep going?" Kastan asked. "It's going to get really boring."

"It'll be fine," Shelkar insisted.

"Don't say I didn't warn you.

"We have a complex hierarchy within the cult. Graduates scour the galaxy for Force-sensitive children, about three to five years of age, and bring them to our enclave on Tatooine. There, they're cared for, protected, taught in the ways of the Force, and the blade, et cetera. All this is done with the permission of the parents, of course, a far cry from the Jedi of old. When a novice has reached a certain age and passed certain tests, usually around seven or eight, they are taught basic Force powers, such as mind tricks and telekinesis, as well as disciplines that decrease the amount of time it takes to learn a Force power. By the age of thirteen, they take their final test - they take a ship and fly across the Dune Sea in search of an old Krayt Dragon lair, where they will collect a datapad. What is done with that, I am not at liberty to divulge. They have exactly four hours, after which the speeders' autopilot engages and flies them back to base, where the datapads are returned. Those who fail have to wait another month to go out and try again, whilst those who succeed travel the galaxy in search of True Light outposts, the Force guiding them. Still want me to keep going?"

"Absolutely," Shelkar replied.

"Alright. There are many types of Force Powers, all of which fall under one of three categories: Light, Universal, and Dark. Certain Force Powers and their respective progression trees, such as Heal and Stasis, are inherently Light Side, and easier to use by those who have devoted themselves to the Light. Others, like Throw Lightsaber and Force Armor are universal, meaning they can be used by Light and Dark side devotees with equal difficulty. Still more, such as Force Choke or Drain Live, align further towards the Dark side. We believe in a balance, so everyone has a mixture of Dark, Universal, and Light side powers.

"In those outposts I was talking about earlier, Force powers are taught. Each enclave specializes in a particular Force power. When one learns a Force Power, they have a choice: leave in search of another enclave, or stay and learn the next Force Power on the progression tree. However, in order to learn a second or third tier Force Power, there must be some prerequisites, i.e. a set number of already known Force Powers. Certain first-tier Force Powers have this restriction as well. Cure, for example, requires at least five other Force Powers to learn, while Heal, the tier 2 version of Cure, necessitates 12.

"There is always a Teacher at each enclave, the one who is most proficient at the Force Power taught there. Challenges are done through duels, but the only usable Force Power is the one being taught at that enclave. The victor replaces the loser as the Teacher of that enclave, and the loser returns to scouring the Galaxy to learn more Force powers, or find new novices to bring to the base on Tatooine. Teachers answer to a Master, who governs all the enclaves in a particular area, and those Masters answer to one Grandmaster, who oversees all enclaves and makes informed political decisions. I currently hold the title of Grandmaster. Challenges for Grandmaster, and Master as well, are also held in duels, the main difference being that short of death and other dirty tricks, anything goes; any Force Power can be used. However, such challenges are rare, as almost all the True Light members are in the same political party - against the Empire. Does that satisfy you?"

"Still no," Shelkar said, whimsically. "You were talking about Progression Trees earlier. What are those, anyway?"

"Each Force Power can be improved," Kastan replied exasperatedly, his throat as dry as Jakku from explaining without taking a pause for breath. "Cure, for example, can be replaced with Heal; so it is for every other Force Power. These adaptations are termed 'progression trees'. Of course, the _total_ number of Force Powers learnable by the True Light method is twenty. Therefore, Heal takes up two out of twenty, since it has Cure as a prerequisite. Why one would use Cure if they had Heal, though, is beyond me, but you get the point. Basically, if I learned Cure, I'd have learned 1 Force Power. If I learn Heal afterwards, my total Force Power Count is two, even though there'd be no point in using Cure, ever. Understand?"

"Commentary: You spent exactly twenty-six point seven seven two minutes speaking, Master. That almost doubles your last record."

"I suppose so. Go slap on an envirosuit. You'll help us investigate some weird ruins over on the other side of Hracket Rift."

"Hang on, quick question: Can a modern holodisk survive at these depths, or do I have to use a datapad?"

"I don't see why it wouldn't," Shelkar replied curtly. "Why do you ask."

"Oh, no reason. I just think I know exactly what you're talking about. History lesson will have to wait, though; you'll have to give me a month or so before my throat recovers."

Shelkar rolled her eyes in response.

 **!0*0!**

Kastan hadn't even the time to exit the infirmary before a Selkath brandishing a holodisk like a pistol marched into the room, clearly disturbed by something.

"Guys, guys! You won't believe this!"

"What conspiracy theory is it now, Mutrao?" Shelkar replied, evidently bored out of her mind.

"Don't ask me!" he hissed, shoving the holodisk in Shelkar's face.

A few agonizingly slow minutes passed as Shelkar perused the holodisk.

"You've got to be kidding me. How many of our own have already left?"

"About half the Selkath, as well as most of the human researchers."

"Half? Half! But there were four hundred-"

"Which is now 184. Some lady on Anoat figured out how to synthesize a bacta-like compound from a worm on the surface; Hsiu in contemplating moving our kolto refineries there. That way, we don't have to mine it out of the ground, or buy it at a ridiculous price from the Selkath."

"Do you even have a choice?" Kastan chimed in.

"Honestly, not really. Desperate times, however, call for desperate measures."

"Let me see the thing," Kastan said, gesticulating towards the holodisk.

The holographic newspaper displayed on the disc had a multitude of fine prints, images, and the like. To Kastan, only the headline was legible:

 _ **New source of Kolto! Is Manaan's Monopoly Doomed?**_

Immediately below that was a picture of none other than Brenda Enderbeck.

"You've got to be kidding me. You could have told me it was KOLTO, Brenda!"

"You know her?" Mutrao questioned.

"She's my sister."

"So who the hell is left?" Shelkar asked, steely-eyed.

"184 Selkath, this guy, the two droids, the defected Stormtrooper who came down yesterday, and the idiots in Command. That's all."

"They really are all gone…"

 **!0*0!**

Vader stormed into the Rebel Headquarters. Their hopelessly incompetent metal detectors blared, but he paid them no heed.

"Vader, what do you think you're doing? I'll be quite happy to inform the Selkath -"

"That the underwater base exists?" Vader interrupted.

"Hang on, the what?" she replied blankly. Vader had to give Hsiu Wann credit; she was a half-decent liar.

"Don't lie to me. I know it exists. Cough up!"

"I don't know what you're-"

At that moment, waves of Selkath and humans burst out of the innards of the base.

"No time. We abandoned the facility; objectives compromised. We have to reroute -"

The Selkath's voice dropped to an unintelligible whisper.

"So. There is a base after all."

Hsiu Wann looked incredibly distraught.

"What do you want?" she pleaded.

"Simple. Access to the facility. There's a defective stormtrooper there, discharged for murdering his comrades. Discipline must be enacted, and I am NOT going to waste my time talking to you," Vader said, using the Force to throw Hsiu across the room. No more than a minute later, a slew of stormtroopers materialized out of nothingness to detain the Rebels on behalf of the Selkath Authority.

 **!0*0!**

Kastan Enderbeck officially hated envirosuits.

They limited movement so significantly, using the Force was virtually impossible. They smelled terrible - Shelkar said it was to deter any nearby firaxan sharks, who would gladly kill a cocky explorer. They were very confined, and Kastan had serious claustrophobia; he had been locked in a small box just before he had been discovered by the Enderbecks. Or at least that's what he thought had happened; he was only a baby at the time.

"We have reached our destination," Shelkar blared over the intercom, shaking Kastan out of his doldrums.

It was unassuming enough; it was just a good-sized pile of sand and grit at the bottom of the ocean. Strangely, what appeared to be badly crumpled spotlights littered the ground around it. Coincidence?

The location itself was at the opposite side of Hracket Rift from the facility, which meant that the motley crew had to cross a rickety metal bridge. Hundreds of firaxan sharks loomed overhead, as if called there by some primordial entity.

The research team wasted no time in dusting off the gritty substance, revealing an ominous black ball with five large spikes attached to it, four pointing in each cardinal direction, while one faced straight up.

"This is it; the Star Map," Kastan said.

He approached, datapad in hand. As he did so, the upward prong split into four, gaping wider and wider. The central ball began to rise to where the tip of the prong was before its transformation. Once there, it lit itself on fire, and a map of the Galaxy appeared. Of course, there were plenty of corrupted coordinates, incomplete hyperspace calculations, things like that. The point was, Kastan was one step closer to tracking down the Star Forge. He dutifully copied the Star Map's information onto his datapad. Once finished, the Star Map reverted to its original form, plunging the newly made cavern into darkness.

"What was that?" the muscle of the team asked. He had been a former stormtrooper by the name of GRG-892, but the team had taken to just calling him "George" instead. George himself found it "demeaning", but the name stuck. HK, being HK, didn't trust him; instead, it followed the base protocol of "Stormtroopers can't be trusted."

"It's a Star Map," Shelkar replied, as if that explained everything.

"That doesn't help me! What's a Star Map!?"

"Don't ask me; Kas knows, but he won't tell me either."

"I already spent the last half-hour explaining the True Light to you, and now I'm starting to lose my voice," Kastan rasped.

A shadow passed over the mouth of the newborn cave, plunging it into absolute darkness. A minute later, the shadow passed, leaving everyone inside wary.

"What was that, then?" George asked. "Kas?"

"Terrifying, that's what!" a human researcher replied, frantic.

"It could be a giant firaxan shark…" one Selkath said quietly.

"You don't mean…"

"One thing's for certain; I'm not sticking around for the Progenitor to come back."

"The Progenitor? What's that?" Kastan said, blatantly confused.

"Not telling you until you explain what a Star Map is," Shelkar retorted.

"Maybe some other time," Kastan replied hopelessly.

"Maybe some other time," she mimicked.

A high-pitched scream cut off their argument. The human researcher had disappeared- sort of.

 **!0*0!**

"What is that thing?" the man asked.

"Don't ask me!" the soldier replied.

"For the record, it's the Progenitor," a Selkath added, "And it's got Daniel."

"Not Danny! Bridge, fire all available weaponry at that thing!"

"What! No! That's the Progenitor; all our weapons are going to do is make it mad! And when the Progenitor is mad, it'll kill us all! Besides, Selkath authority will be kinda pissed if you do manage to kill it off…"

"Bridge, abort previous order. I repeat: ABORT PREVIOUS ORDER!"

The technician on the other side of the intercom watched, stupefied, at the large red button he had just pressed at his commander's whim.

"Uh, too late for that, boss…"

 **!0*0!**

Something sailed from the facility directly towards the giant firaxan; the warmongers in the base must have attacked on behalf of their researcher.

They were successful in getting the beast to drop him. Unfortunately, he fell right into Hracket Rift, never to be seen again. Of course, they miserably failed in doing any damage. By instinct, the Progenitor started screaming, emanating through the water like the plague as a great number of firaxans descended on the facility.

"What the hell is going on out there?" the admiral said impatiently.

"I don't know, it just started screaming. As are every Selkath in the facility," the technician replied helplessly

On closer inspection, the admiral noticed that the screaming Selkath had some kind of fire in their eyes. A bloodlust, almost. Did they always have claws? And since when were their teeth so sharp? It was almost as if…

Oh, god.

The screaming had since died down, and the Selkath were staring at him, murderously. He no longer recognized the colleagues he had worked alongside for so long; their personalities, their memories, their very sanity had all been leached in the feverish screaming.

Another scream broke his thoughts; he turned to see the technician face off against three of his frie- no, insane Selkath- who had cornered the man. They began to tear bits of flesh off him as he thrashed, trying to throw the homicidal Selkath off of him.

The admiral, not thinking, turned and fled, only to run into yet more Selkath. He was surrounded.

He screamed as they fell on him.

 **!0*0!**

"Everyone take a sonic emitter," Shelkar said, quickly doling the things out.

"What are these supposed to do? Do they, like, stab things?" George asked.

"No, George. They generate a powerful sonic wave which we _think_ will kill a firaxan. The Progenitor is gone, thank god, but even a regular firaxan will kill you without qualms or mercy."

Equipped with their new weapons, the motley crew of three Selkath and two humans set off from the cave, blasting through wave after wave of firaxan sharks, towards the silent facility. At long last, they entered an airlock, and exited dry and envirosuitless. Kastan's dark, hooded Jedi robes made all but his face virtually invisible in the dark, dank room.

HK-47 and T3-M4 were nowhere in sight, which both stressed and calmed Kastan. On the one hand, they surely would have contacted him if something had gone wrong. On the other, if there _was_ something amiss, it must be absolutely terrible.

A quick yelp was all they heard, then another.

Kastan, Shelkar, and George whirled around to see their two other comrades gone without a trace.

"Keep an eye out for anything and everything. I only found two guns, so one of us will have to go without." Shelkar said.

"I'll be fine without a gun. You two take them," Kastan replied amiably.

Shelkar mumbled something incoherent as she passed George a rifle and pulled a smaller pistol from her pocket.

They made their way towards the bridge.

Reddish liquid dripped down the stairs, adding a dark touch to an already utterly horrifying scene.

Two Selkath lay on the ground, utterly motionless. As Kastan moved a bit closer, he could see bite marks scattered haphazardly across their bodies. A quick scan with the Force told him that they were still alive, to his relief.

"Hey? You both okay?" Kastan asked. At this point, he was standing about ten feet from the bodies.

In one fluid motion, both Selkath got up, turned, and leapt at him, newfound fangs and claws outstretched. He hadn't time to react; his life was over.

Bang.

Both Shelkar and George had fired a shot, each hitting their respective targets. The two Selkath dropped to the floor, dead.

"You're welcome, by the way. You're supposed to thank us for saving your life," George said.

"I prefer to let my actions speak for me," Kastan refuted, reaching forward. Bolts of lightning lurched from his hands, directly into the Selkath standing right behind them.

"I think that means we're even," Kastan said cooly.

George didn't demean his response with a remark. "So why are they attacking us?"

"They're insane, I think," Shelkar replied. "Must have been all that damn screaming."

"But then why the hell are WE not doing what they're doing?"

"Could you stop cussing like sailors? I'm trying to concentrate," Kastan interjected, evidently deep in thought.

"Maybe it was the envirosuits, maybe it was the fact that we were underwater. Don't ask me."

"I'm TRYING to help you, so LISTEN UP! We've got Selkath coming in hot from left and right, so we should probably head either north or south. We also need somewhere with space and sustenance. Anyone got ideas?"

"Well, if we're going to pick a place to save our skins we should get going. We have little enough time as it is," George added. "We could use my room -"

"Which is on the opposite side of the facility," Shelkar interrupted. "How about the pantry? It has everything we need and it's just down the hall."

"Works for me. You lead, you're the most familiar with this place."

They tore down the hallway. A blaster shot struck the wall just inches in front of Kastan's face. Whirling, he saw a droid, clearly not HK, approach from the shadows to the north. He watched as more droids materialized from behind them.

They were trapped.

Two blaster shots rang out, before Shelkar and George had time to raise their weapons.

T3-M4 appeared out of the shadows of the hallway, pistols ready for combat; one of the droids had been destroyed.

 **!0*0!**

Vader opened the door to the computer bay. If the Rebels had any brains, he reasoned, then they would have stored the area schematics on a computer, to make it easier for newcomers to operate efficiently within the base. Therefore, he could hack the computers to spit out the schematics, thus allowing him to pinpoint the exact location of the submarines. He summoned a few ensigns to hack the system, as well as ten troopers to keep the Rebels quiet.

"Anyone got any computer spikes? I can upload them to a holodisk, but I need five of them."

Another ensign raided a storage bin, and handed him six.

"Lord Vader, the schematics," he said, handing the Sith Lord the holodisk.

Situated clearly behind two blast doors were the words 'Submarine Bay'.

Now the only problem was getting in.

 **!0*0!**

The other two war droids fired, but George and Shelkar teamed up on one, while Kastan used the Force to send a hypercharged electrical current through the other.

"T3, where's HK?" Kastan asked.

"Boop-weep beep. Woop!"

Katan rolled his eyes. "T3, are you all right? What happened? Where's HK-47?"

T3 looked as if he's almost been eaten; its legs sported bite marks and its head appeared to be coated in saliva.

"Boop-woop bap beep weep woop da-boop. Beep ba-doop, weep?"

"We know the Selkath are insane, and Shelkar isn't for some reason. Where is HK?"

"Weep da-doop," it chirped.

"My room?" George asked hesitantly.

"Boop. Weep bee-doop.

"I thought I told it not to stalk you!" Shelkar raged.

"HK doesn't listen to anyone but me," Kastan interjected, "and it took it about six years to start listening."

"Could you whup it when we get there for me? I'm not about to stay here, and get eaten alive by insane Selkath, but HK'll blast me if I get within eight meters," George mused angrily.

"Let's go, then," Kastan announced, as the group of four moved briskly through the facility, now fraught with danger.

 **!0*0!**

HK-47 sifted through the horribly disorganized drawers, finding clothing, cards, and the rare picture. None of which were useful to a stormtrooper, or course, but it was still worth searching.

It scanned the room, its glowing red eyes searching for anything, anywhere. Anything could be hidden anywhere, regardless of how stupid it may seem on the surface.

Under the mattress, it discovered a small but supercharged communicator, and a disarmed thermal detonator. It made sense, really. GRG-892 had been sent by the Empire to kill his master. The Empire had wanted him captured alive for the longest time, but apparently they now just wanted him dead if they were going to send bombers. They'd given up on taking him alive.

Voices floated from the south.

"I swear, I want to kill that pesky droid of yours!" The stormtrooper.

"Calm down, George; HK doesn't do things without a logical reason. That's not how it's programmed." His master.

"Still, I trust that thing about as far as you can throw me.

"Want me to try?"

"Ha. Give it your best shot.

"You asked for it, Kastan said, falling silent. In HK's mind's eye, it saw George float about a meter off the ground.

"I meant with your hands!" George said hastily.

"... oh. Easy misunderstand-"

A gunshot rang out.

Silence. Deafening silence.

"You guys have got to be less _loud_ ," a new voice said. Shelkar.

"Sorry," the other two said in unison.

The door finally burst open as T3-M4, Shelkar, GRG-892, and Kastan barged in.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" George cried.

"Answer: Stopping you from killing my master."

"THERE ISN'T ANYTHING TO FIND!" Shelkar yelled indignantly.

"Query: Why, then, was there a grenade between the mattresses?"

HK raised his arm. Held in its hand was a small thermal detonator.

A pregnant pause ensued as realization dawned in their heads.

"All of a sudden, I feel a lot less safe here," George said, his brow furrowed.

"We all do," Shelkar replied placatingly.

"It looks pretty new. A few days old, at most," Kastan said, his analytical mind quickest to overcome emotion.

"So someone in the facility is trying to kill me?!" George ejaculated, his eyes widening.

"Commentary: Can anyone spare a coin? Someone give the organic meatbag a coin! The furrowed brow is especially convincing."

HK-47 leveled his rifle at George's chest.

"Statement: It will not fool me."

"Beep boop weep!" T3 screeched.

"HK-47. Stand. Down," Kastan ordered. Slowly, he pushed the rifle barrel away from George. "I'm not losing an ally at a time like this."

"Statement: When he shoots you in the back, you will get no sympathy from me. Signing off," it said, almost sullenly, before going silent.

George grinned. Apparently, the Insurgent was too daft to understand the simple concept of betrayal. The only problem was the HK-47 unit. It had its completely justified suspicions about him the whole time, yet no one even bothered to listen to him.

 _It's been a full rotation,_ he realized with no lack of shock. _Lord Vader will want an update soon, and it would be best not to keep him waiting._ Grasping for his communicator, George moved towards the exit.

"George? Where, exactly, do you think we're going?" Kastan said, pushing George out of his doldrums.

"I'm, uh, going to get your lightsaber. Like you said, you're terrible with guns," he ad libbed hastily.

"Funny; I don't recall ever saying that in front of you. I told Shelkar that."

George glanced over his shoulder, demanding for his body to summon its best poker face. To his relief, Shelkar and HK-47 had already started arguing about something. Probably how to best provision for the three biological life-forms that they actually cared about.

"S-she told me, just before the Selkath all went crazy."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Kastan said with an exasperated sigh. "But if you can, get me my sword; I wouldn't be caught dead with a lightsaber in hand."

Like he thought: gullible.

George wandered aimlessly for a number of minutes, then noticed Selkath up the corridor. Seeing that, he dived into the nearest room and locked the door. Immediately afterwards, he pulled out his communicator.

"Lord Vader, come in? This is GRG-892, reporting in, do you read me?"

"You're late in your status report," Vader replied blandly. As he heard these words, George thought he felt a whispering touch at his throat.

"We were… held up," George said cooly. "All the Selkath in the facility have gone completely insane. They're killing anything that moves. Worse, some bloke turned on all the security droids, and they're running around blasting everything that they can point their gun barrels at. With this in mind, I advise a large number of smaller groups when attempting to move around the facility; they're harder to detect and thus minimizes our losses."

"Fair enough, I suppose. Have you any news?"

Just like that, the constricting feeling around his neck had dissipated like it was never there.

"Yes, Lord Vader. I have confirmed that the Insurgent is down here; he's gullible enough to believe pretty much anything, but too powerful in the Force to take head-on. The real problem is the bloody Selkath; you can't attack him all at once, because all the psycho Selkath in the facility will come running, and you can't use smaller forces, because that would be a waste of Stormtroopers. We have a serious dilemma, and it's not an easy one to solve. I would also tell you the weather, but I'm not in a position to give reliable information."

"Do you really think that I would ever send Stormtroopers to deal with the Insurgent? I can hardly trust them to shoot straight, much less fight what might as well be a Jedi! What we need is subterfuge, miscommunication, something to throw him off his feet, something to distract him. Do this before I arrive, which will be very, _very soon._ "

Vader ended the transmission without so much as a thank you.

Miraculously, the traitorous trooper noticed a silvery hilt poking out of a random closet. It must have been Kastan's lightsaber. It would be better than nothing.

As he reached for the mythical weapon, he heard a loud bang and something breaking. He felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. George turned around expecting to see Kastan, but instead got a much deadlier surprise.

A party of four insane Selkath had broken into the room, and now stood motionless, blood dripping from their protruding mouths onto the already red floor.

He had forgotten his blaster, and silently reprimanded himself. A rifle would have come in handy right now!

The Selkath slowly approached, poison-laced claws anxious for the kill. Eager to rend flesh from a body.

His body.

Abruptly, the Selkath froze, claws just centimeters from George's vulnerable skin. GRG opened his eyes, only now realizing that he had closed them and that he wasn't dead. A purplish sheen hovered over their bodies, rippling and dancing across their blue-toned skin as if alive.

"Like I said, I'd rather not lose an ally," Kastan said, leaning casually in the doorway. Clearly, he had caused the queer freeze in time; a Force Power, maybe?

The lightsaber he felt in his hand suddenly jerked; instinctively, he tightened his grip. With a tremendous force, the weapon shot out of his grasp and into Kastan's open palm. He looked at it, almost disdainfully.

"I mean, if I have to."

He turned it on.

Instantly, a blast of light jettisoned from the hilt. It was about three and a half feet long and a bright blue, more of a teal than the proper blue lightsaber George had once seen in a holocron documenting the Great Jedi Purge. A strange heat emanated from it, and the air around the blade appeared to flicker and shimmer as if the blade itself was ablaze. Wisps of shadow danced across the glowing lightsaber like smoke from a bonfire. It appeared chaotic, unstable, as little variations occurred instantaneously, tilting a fraction of a fraction of a degree at any and every given moment. Little blue flame-esque things spiraled up randomly from the bottom of the blade to the very tip, giving it an eerie fire-like quality.

The blade hummed as the True Light Grandmaster quickly stabbed the Selkath closest to George in the stomach, sliced the second in half with a potent vertical slice, and released chaotic purple beams of pure Force on the last two, literally leaching the life out of the stunned senseless Selkath and infusing Kastan's own vitality. Immediately after the purple rods of death disappeared, the Selkath slumped to the ground, dead. George noticed a distinctive lack of blood; the heat of Kastan's blade must have cauterized any injury inflicted with it.

"...Thank you…" George stammered. "But- How? Why?"

"You forgot your rifle," Kastan replied vaguely, pulling the weapon out of seemingly nowhere and tossing it to the hapless stormtrooper.

 **!0*0!**

Vader's communicator blared yet again. He was inspecting the blast doors that barred him from the submarine bay; he had ensigns combing the mainframe for any weaknesses, but to no avail.

"What?" Vader whispered angrily.

"Lord Vader, this is Grand Moff Tarkin, reporting from the _Executrix._ I come bearing news from the Emperor himself."

"What does he want?"

"He wants the Insurgent off Manaan in… three rotations. If that is too little time, Lord Vader-"

"You can tell the Emperor," Vader boomed, "that I will have the Insurgent on Coruscant in two rotations. I am not far from his current location.

As it happens, I have a contact who's within no less than five feet of the Insurgent at all times. It's a surprisingly intelligent stormtrooper, believe it or not, managed to fool Wann into thinking he was a defect and got access to the base long before I arrived on the scene. I'll be meeting up with him there."

"M-may the Force be with you, Lord Vader," Grand Moff Tarkin said, sounding oddly relieved. "I'll relay this to the Emperor immediately."

The transmission ended.

After twelve hours of attempting to slice the door, the ensigns still had had no luck. Vader let them return to the Sith Embassy to the east, to go and live the rest of their pitifully short lives.

"Giving up already, Vader?" Hsiu Wann laughed, having recently awoken from her Force-induced stupor. She sounded as smug as she could when facing the barrel of a gun.

"I would hardly call resorting to more brutish methods of coercion 'giving up'," Vader replied curtly before igniting his lightsaber.

The stark red glowing blade nearly impaled a stormtrooper directly in front of him. Had it not been for the trooper's duty, he would have probably requisitioned a transfer right then and there.

The Sith Lord promptly turned to the blast doors, and drove his lightsaber directly into it. He began carving a huge hole with the weapon, leaving a glowing red metal ooze in its wake. They glowed with heat, even though no heat emanated from it or the blade itself.

When the fallen Jedi finished his arduous task, a uniform red circle stood obviously in the door. With but a minute movement of his hand, the inset circle blasted out of the remainder of the door, the Force having exerted a tremendous force on it.

He and his squadron of fifty stormtroopers marched into the submarine, and _convinced_ the terrified pilot to drive the sub to the base.

The Insurgent was in his grasp.

 **!0*0!**

"George, do you mind if I borrow your communicator?" Kastan asked innocuously.

"Why do you need it?" he asked, a bit too harshly.

"I'd like to contact some… friends of mine. Too much to ask?" Kastan answered sarcastically.

"More rebels, I assume?"

"Why do you say _rebels_ like that? Technically, you're one too."

"That's debatable," he muttered under his breath, but handed it over all the same.

A pregnant pause ensued.

"This is Specter 0, do you read me, over?" Kastan said.

"Specter 0, this is Specter 6, over," a boyish voice replied. It was broken up by static, but audible to a reasonable degree.

"Huh, didn't think this would actually work. I've got the jewel, over."

"Lucky you," he drawled. "We've been looking for the blue one, but we haven't found it anywhere, over."

"No, not the white jewel. I got the blue jewel. I was shot down by the Empire, and there's a whole facility down under the water. The blue jewel is down here, too. You'll have to go to Dantooine to get the last one; I'm sending the data to you now. There, it should be on your holodisc. Last I remember, it should be in the old Ra- er, I mean, ruins. It should-"

The communicator hissed for a moment, then went dead.

"I think it's out of charge, I'm sorry," Kastan said remorsefully, handing it back to George.

"It's fine. I'll find a way to charge it up," George replied nonchalantly.

"Guys, bad news: We're out of water!" Shelkar announced.

"Commentary: Your statement is false; drill through a hole and we'll all find what we want, now won't we."

"I meant drinking water, HK!" Shelkar yelled irascibly.

"Can't Selkath drink salt water just fine?" Kastan inquired.

"That's a common misconception, actually. Salt water is not ingestible by the Selkath," Shelkar refuted.

"So we're going to… to… dehydrate to death down here?" Kastan said.

"Boop wee-doop!" T3 announced, balancing Kastan's sword and a rather large water container on its "head".

"T3-M4, bless your tin can of a soul!" George stated.

"Boop woop doop bloo-poo-dawoop blee-bee-bea deep!"

"T3, you're so modest," Kastan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

 **Okay, I'm going to be frank. I just looked up on Wookieepedia that apparently, Bacta exists. Therefore, nobody cares about Manaan anymore. But you know what? Forget the Star Wars Canon! This is fanfiction, and if you want to mess with MY interpretation of the Star Wars universe, then I can tell you EXACTLY where you can stick your criticism. NOT HERE, THAT'S FOR SURE!**

 **I feel so much better after that slightly homicidal rant.**

 **Anyway, that was the second chapter of… this… Reviews of any type are appreciated, as long as it's not, like, "Oh, this is cute." That doesn't help me. Give some criticism, how to improve, because that's why we're all here, aren't we, as readers and writers? To improve. Also, feel free to ask questions. I'll be happy to answer any non-stupid questions you may have. Just leave a review, or I GUESS a PM. I'll be happy for the attention either way. Also also, yay, Phoenix cameos.**

 **Ladies and Men of the Gentlekind, this is Professor Zerkxes, over and out.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Existential crisis: People read this.**

 **Another existential crisis: I have a serious medical condition that essentially shuts down all my bodily functions if I don't get enough reviews in my diet. And if I'm dead, I can't exactly post, can I? Therefore, for each review this gets, I'll be able to post more frequently and increase the chances for a SEQUEL. *wink wink nudge nudge***

 **DISCLAIMER: EHRMAHGERD! I own a C-3PO and a Darth Vader! I mean, they're bobbleheads, but the point remains. But seriously, I don't own Star Wars because if I did, Kastan would be LITERALLY EVERYWHERE.**

 **Chapter 3: The Clash of Fates**

 **!0*0!**

"Lord Vader, this is Grand Moff Tarkin, do you read me?"

"What do you want?" Vader said irascibly. "I'm in the middle of something."

That something happened to be the stupid ocean under stupid Ahto City under stupid Manaan. The miles of water above meant more than enough interference, making Tarkin's normally cool and collected voice sound even more incoherent and incompetent than usual.

"Forgive me, my Lord. The Insurgent appears to have not left the base. You're clear for attack.

"However, there is something else. Phoenix Squadron has left Manaan; the Insurgent must have contacted them somehow. We intercepted the transmission, and there were mentions of a "blue jewel" and a "green jewel", which we have linked to Manaan and Dantooine, respectively. Remember that Phoenix Squadron have already visited Kashyyyk, Korriban, and Tatooine, which they referred to as the "Silver, red, and gold" jewels. There were also small mentions of a "Star Map. Have you any information on what that is?"

"The Star Maps are dire to Operation. You are going to inform the Emperor immediately. If they manage to get that fifth Star Map on Dantooine, Operation will be dead before it hits the ground."

"O-of course, Lord Vader. Your will will be executed at once."

 **!0*0!**

"I still don't really know anything about you, Kastan. If I'm going to spend eternity down here in this hellhole with you, we might as well be acquainted, no?" George inquired.

"The same could be said for you. I've always wondered exactly what the life of a… _stormtrooper_ on Kamino is like. Manaan must be eerily familiar to you, what with the water and all," Kastan countered.

"Okay, let's make a deal," George said, smiling smugly but sounding dead serious. "You tell me about your life in the True Light, I'll regale you about my life as a stormtrooper. Sound good?"

"I don't see any fault in that."

Both glanced at the other, waiting for them to start.

"Uh…"

"You… want to go first?"

"Not particularly."

"You make me do all the work," Kastan said mockingly.

"Hardly that. I just need time to… figure out how to word it."

"Fine.

"I was born Kastan, about ten years before the rise of the Galactic Empire. Both my parents were… slaves? I believe? Fortunately, the Jedi showed up and ended the whole charade, and my parents and I ended up on a starship, going to some random world where we could start anew. But apparently, the Separatists thought it would be a good idea to shoot it down… I was the only survivor.

"We were just passing over Alderaan, and I was found and taken in by the Enderbecks. To be completely honest, I always thought the whole thing was convoluted and unlikely, but no one had a better idea, so we all just went along with it. I stayed with the Enderbecks for a solid two years or so, long enough to take their name.

"At the end of those months, the Jedi came again into my life. They discovered me to be Force-sensitive and convinced me to become a cloistered Jedi, essentially. Being frank, I quickly surpassed my peers in intelligence and raw Force power, although I was not so well gifted in physical strength."

He paused to fish a small packet of pills out of one of his pockets and popped it into his mouth.

"Alanine," he explained. "I have a condition that essentially blocks the production of that amino acid. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the Jedi Order.

"I, uh… may or may not have accidentally caused a major earthquake when I was testing the limits of my power with my personal acquaintance… and somehow managed to literally read someone else's mind… and totally didn't lose to literally every other padawan at arm wrestling… but that's beyond the point. By this time, it was about a year before the Great Jedi Purge.

"To my chagrin, the Jedi Masters deemed me not strong enough to assist in the Clone Wars, not only because of my… ahem… condition, but also because I was too young to serve as a soldier. Frankly, I found that to be rampant with stupidity. To be frank, I was the best padawan they had. If they had someone as powerful as me, why not use me? It made no sense.

"Those were my… darker times. I began dabbling in the other side of the spectrum, the one that… _the_ Emperor Palpatine uses. Speaking of him, Chancellor Palpatine tried his best to ensure that my training was going smoothly; as for why, I had no idea at the time. He would even smuggle me out of the Jedi Temple so that I could be of assistance to the Clone Wars: sending vital information from the Senate to the front, smaller things like that. No one was the wiser. If I weren't as intelligent as I am now, I would say that we had a father-son dynamic happening, or something.

"Then, he took it a bit further out of my comfort zone.

"He started asking me to use my powers for Senate subterfuge. Convince Senator _ from _ to support Chancellor Palpatine with a subtle mind trick or a quick word in passing. Of course, I trusted him. I couldn't sense any Force Taint, and he had been kind enough in the past. Then it escalated to using the Force to disguise myself as something and infiltrating the Separatists, and even involved strategic assassinations of higher-ups. That was where I drew the line; that was the day I found the taint of darker intentions I had been wary of for so long. Of course, no one else paid attention. In the end, I fled the Jedi Order because there was no point in staying.

"I learned the next day… that Order 66 happened.

"I went back to Alderaan, only to find everything razed. I did find my sister Brenda though, so it wasn't a total waste. They were of direct lineage to Darth Revan back in the day, so HK, T3, and the Ebon Hawk became ours. Well, mostly hers, but she said she didn't want it, so it became mine. While flying over to somewhere, we were shot down by Vader and some of his troopers. Not here, mind you; this was over Tatooine. We crash landed smack-dab in the middle of the Dune Sea… by which I mean ten meters from the True Light settlement. I trust you know the rest of the story from there, or at least on Tatooine?"

"Yeah, you only spent twenty minutes talking about it last time," George said exasperatedly. "Let's just continue."

"When Jail Nash - the Archivist from the Jedi Temple - died, there was a long, competitive race that was held between three factions - Light, Neutral, and Dark - in order to determine the successor. I ran for Neutral; I refused to be a member of the Dark faction, but the Light felt too removed for my tastes. Besides, many of my acquaintances within the True Light were Neutrals, so I joined on basis of that. I don't think I have to tell you that I won the election, but whatever.

"I spent a few months planet-hopping with Brenda, settling disputes and never staying in any one place for long. After that, I intercepted an encrypted message from the Empire that chilled me to my very bone: 'The Star Forge will be finished within seven rotations. Operation should be ready within sixty rotations, given our projections.'

"I dug a little deeper to find that virtually no one knew or cared about the Star Forge. But I did learn that these Star Maps - which are actually pretty useless - to figure out the location of the Star Forge and hopefully destroy it. I also met a smaller group of Rebels calling themselves the "Phoenix Squadron", and in return for much-needed assistance against the Empire, they agreed to help me track down the Star Maps and get to the Star Forge. As of right now, we have one left.

"Ironically enough, I was on my way to Dantooine when I got shot down here. I mean, I'm not necessarily complaining; no one would have found the Star Forge at the bottom of the ocean.

"Okay. That's all the story that you need. Now it's your turn."

George opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted by Shelkar.

"What the- Where did all our water go!?"

"Did you drink it all again?" Kastan hollered.

"No! I think it's been siphoned!"

"So this is worse than the last time we ran out of water?" George asked.

"Much worse."

"So now we have to go get some water. I motion that we all head out.

"Statement: My morality programming - yes, I have that - dictates that you definitely should not go, Master," HK interjected. It had been surprisingly solemn over the last day.

"And why do you think that?"

"Answer: If there's one of _them-_ " it pointed menacingly at George - "There's bound to be others."

"HK. We. Have. Been. Through. This."

"Beep-eep woop boop-bloo-doop!

"Whatever. I'm going, and that is FINAL!" Kastan said steely, stalking out the door.

 **!0*0!**

The craft broke the surface of the water, and Darth Vader set foot in the abandoned facility. Without missing a beat, he held the communicator to his facial plate and turned it on.

"GRG-892, this is Lord Vader, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Lord Vader.

"We've docked. Where is the Insurgent?"

"He's probably entered the storage tanks by now. We've recently run out of water, so the Insurgent offered to go and retrieve some. Perfect time to strike. Over and out."

He wouldn't have much time.

He reached for a nearby Republic army knife and sliced some thin gauges in his arm, allowing the blood to spill onto the ground. He propped a long-dead Selkath corpse against the wall.

Perfect.

Now all he needed was a murder weapon.

 **!0*0!**

"I think we're in the most ironic situation ever," Shelkar mused as she pawed through yet another canister of imperishables.

"How do you mean?" Kastan inquired.

"We're trapped inside an underwater facility, surrounded by an army of insane mantis men, and we all freak out when we run out of water," she replied.

"Just another reason to be careful, I suppose," he replied, blanker than an empty piece of paper.

"Don't tell me HK is rubbing off on you."

"Don't be ridiculous. If we're going to survive this mess, we've all got to stick to-"

He paused.

"It's bad manners to give people the silent treatment in the middle of a sentence," Shelkar said, wagging her finger in his general direction.

"Get over here."

Shelkar peered into the canister. It was innocuous as all the other canisters within a twenty-foot radius, yet what was inside was far more deadly.

A complete set of stormtrooper armor.

"... So?"

"Why is this here? George didn't have an extra set when he came down here, and as far as I know there aren't any more stormtroopers in the facility. Squadrons always bring an extra pair with them whenever they go, so that means- oh no. Stay absolutely quiet," he said, his voice quickly diminishing to a mere whisper. "They know we're here. Get somewhere they can't see you. Now!"

The pair immediately scampered into the dark recesses of the Vault.

A rhythmic clanking noise of stormtroopers wandering the halls of the Vault utterly consumed Kastan's thought. It continued, ceaseless clanking for weeks on end- or so it felt.

What was it with massive totalitarian governments and annoying sounds?

 **!0*0!**

Vader turned to see GRG-892 materialize from the shadows of the facility. The trooper immediately saluted erectly on the spot. He had no weapon, and droplets of blood- human blood- flowed down one of his arms. A tourniquet had been tied around the upper arm.

GRG-892 immediately stopped dead, gurgling noises emanating from his throat as Vader made a fist. Force Choking, he had learned, was a wonderful disciplinary action.

"W-w-what?" George stammered, understandably terrified.

"You knew we wanted the Insurgent alive. And you killed him," Vader stated, Force Choking even tighter.

"Wha- I- Oh, this is about the blood, isn't it?" George asked, suddenly eerily calm. "You misunderstand. The blood is my own. I had to leave some as part of an escape plot. I know we want the Insurgent alive; I'm not that dumb."

GRG-892 feigned nonchalance, but clearly demonstrated some degree of absolute terror. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and dribbled down his face; clearly, he was in anticipation of his judgement.

The part of Vader that was still Anakin Skywalker took control for the first time in years, and forced him to release George from the Choke hold.

The Sith Lord immediately subdued himself, angry that the fleeting light within him could have taken hold so quickly. Evidently, he needed more discipline and training if the Rebellion was to crash and burn.

 **!0*0!**

Clink. Clank. Clink. Clank. Clink. Clank. Clink. Clank. Clink. Clank. Clink. Clank. Footfalls resonated across the Vault, echoes flying across the walls and straight into Kastan's head. Noise drilled through his consciousness ceaselessly, scattering any attempt at coherent thought.

They got louder as the troopers drew nearer, ever so slowly, as if trying to drive Kastan absolutely mad before finally tracking him down and ending him.

Kastan closed his eyes and opened his ears, allowing the steps to become more then that. A metronome.

He began humming, in a tune completely unfamiliar to him. It was not only a method to cope with the overwhelming amount of insanity coursing through and around him, but because music had always steadied his connection to the Force. Was this common?

His makeshift timekeeper increased in pace, and he heard fervent shouting. They'd found either him or Shelkar.

Then he looked up, directly into a stormtrooper's mask.

 **!0*0!**

They'd found him, Shelkar thought. She retreated further into her hidey-hole as a veritable tsunami of stormtroopers marched down the hallway adjacent to her. Such organization, such discipline, such order. If the Empire could be commended for one thing, it'd be the adamantly maintained food chain of command.

Then all hell broke loose.

A swarm of insane Selkath ambushed the Empire's foot soldiers. The rigorous order quickly devolved into a mass of gunshots, guttural screaming, and the occasional grenade.

The attacking force was successfully driven off, but the stormtroopers had suffered heavy losses. They were in absolutely no shape to fight a True Light paragon, and they knew it.

With little fanfare, they almost dejectedly about-faced and marched out of the Vault.

Timidly, she peeked her head out of the shadows of her hidey-hole. Even she was surprised by how barren the place had become in the aftermath of the small-scale war. She cursed; Shelkar had an intense fear of silence.

Then she saw him. Face gaunt, more than a trickle of blood flowing viscously down his angular cheek; he had been grazed by at least one Selkath. Worse, it was probably poisoned.

He noticed her, grinned halfheartedly, and wiped the excess blood off his chin.

"Oh, hi," he said blankly. "How are you holding up?" His voice had lost its luster. He sounded less like the teenager (Maybe early twenties? Shelkar honestly wasn't sure) he was, or at least had been when he first entered the facility, and more like an old man who grieved for a million heinous murders- and for all she knew, he had.

"I've been worse. Yourself?"

"Decent, I suppose. I wonder where George and T3 and HK are."

As if on cue, HK-47 strolled into the Vault as if it owned the place.

"Query: Would you happen to know where the organic meatbag GRG-892 is?"

"Yeah, hi, HK. What is it about George now?"

"Answer: He's ditched us quite cleverly, master."

Kastan's left eyebrow arched. "Explain."

"Analysis: Credit where it's due. For a stormtrooper, it was a well-laid ruse. But not well-laid enough."

"I'll take that into account. Now where's T3? I thought we left him with you. Did it get ambushed too?"

"Answer: It demanded to search for you. Addition: Don't make sarcastic remarks about the defect or I'll shoot you between the eyes and get this whole farce over with, Master."

"Okay, okay," Kastan replied flippantly. "Right now we have to-"

A pregnant pause ensued.

"Uh… Kas? You okay?"

"You did feel that chill, right?"

"Answer: I'm a droid, Master. I don't feel cold. I've noticed that you aren't very good at noticing things, Master.

"I didn't feel anything," Shelkar replied, rolling her eyes at HK's comment.

"Oh, never mind, it's just DARTH VADER," Kastan announced.

"What about him?"

"Qualification: Haven't you been listening?"

Kastan glared pointedly at HK. "Darth Vader is nearing. We have to go, like, now."

No sooner than that, they heard shouting behind them.

They were trapped in the Vault.

 **!0*0!**

"My Lord, Lord Vader says that he will have the Insurgent within the next one and a half rotations. You will be able to interrogate it there.

"The Star Forge is operating at 279% capacity. Operation will be completely organized within the next five rotations. However, there is some dire news. A new source of Kolto has recently been discovered on Anoat; Operation won't even matter."

"Do it anyway," the gravelly voice of the Emperor resonated. "We must show them the infinite power of the Star Forge."

"As you command, my Lord. Also, there is something else regarding the sanctity of Operation."

"Regale me," the Emperor replied boredly.

"Phoenix Squadron have made multiple inquiries about supposed 'Star Maps' on Korriban, Kashyyyk, and Tatooine, all with the company of the Insurgent. Now, they are departing Manaan and moving towards Dantooine."

There was silence on the other side of the transmission. Then the Emperor spoke.

"Move all troops of Sullust, Vjun, Jakku, and Bespin and move them to Dantooine at once."

"Bespin? But Calrissian-"

"Calrissian will not be a problem to us. All of this is happening just as I predicted."

"But- Yes, my Lord."

The transmission ended.

 **!0*0!**

He was the stuff of nightmares. Menacing, enigmatic, evil incarnate - all of these were but paltry caricatures, falling pathetically short of the terror inflicted by Darth Vader.

Just walking by the creature was enough to send a discipline-less person running for his or her life. Staring dead into his eyes could easily send a disciplined person the same way. Having to _fight_ Darth Vader almost made Kastan want to go outside - without an envirosuit.

But he had more self-control than to lose his sanity.

"Well met, Vader," Kastan called, resisting the urge to mock bow.

His hands gripped tightly on his double-edged kissaki-moroha-zukuri. Technically, it was a Baragwin Assault Blade, but the model was closest to that of a kissaki-moroha-zukuri. Kastan steadfastly refused to use conventional lightsabers unless he was absolutely sure of a absolute victory with no survivors.

Lightsabers required little to no skill to wield and less discipline to master. The True Light dictated that the Jedi had become soft, and thus could not make abject decisions. They required a supercharged flashlight, the most powerful weapon in the universe, to actually get anything done, and usually _that_ ended in bloodshed. Pitiful.

"Kastan Enderbeck," Vader finally boomed. "After months of evading me, it has finally come down to this."

"What can I say?" Kastan replied, shrugging. "I'm a talented individual."

"Stormtroopers, deal with them," Vader said, gesticulating towards Shelkar, HK, and the new arrival of T3. "Stay out of the duel."

Shelkar, T3, and HK dove for cover as the troopers took aim.

Grinning maniacally, Kastan raised his left hand - and unleashed the Force.

A wave of telepathic energy ravaged the Vault. Stormtroopers, Shelkar, HK, T3, Vader, and innumerable crates went flying like beach balls in a tornado. The very walls, insulated to withstand tons of pressure, buckled at the sheer power of the blast.

Vader arose, knocking over a pile of crates with the Force.

"Clever," he said. "Now we have room."

He made a fist.

Kastan's breath suddenly cut off. His hand instinctively went to his throat, and

he

couldn't

move.

Vader approached painfully slowly, clearly savoring the moment.

The Empire had finally won.

 **!0*0!**

The Empire's lost, Shelkar thought.

They would have made a better stand, had HK not activated a gravity generator and pinned them all to the wall.

"Little… help…"

Shelkar whirled to see Kastan floating a few feet above the ground, hands tightly grasping his neck. Without thinking, she fired. Shelkar watched as Vader released Kastan, forced to defend himself. Immediately, Kastan moved to stab Vader while he was turned, but instead parried the Sith Lord's horizontal slice. He attempted to Stasis Vader, but only succeeded in slowing him down somewhat.

A blaster bolt whizzed past her ear; HK's gravity generator must have worn off.

Back to shooting.

 **!0*0!**

Stab. Vertical Slash. Parry. Quick dodge. Feign left, feign right. Kick to the face. Two stabs. Consecutive slices. Heal. Slowly, Kastan and Vader fought. It was clear that they were all but equals on the field of battle; Kastan had the advantage of speed, but Vader had the clear advantage of sheer strength.

"Impressive," Vader grunted. "But you are no Jedi."

"Maybe I was never supposed to be!" Kastan yelled in reply, lashing out with the Force.

Bolts of lightning arced through the Vault, electrocuting about a third of the stormtroopers, and dealing substantial damage to the Sith Lord.

Vader took a step back, and replied with a Force Push that knocked Kastan directly into T3-M4. A second passed with no action. Then there was motion. Kastan rose, panting, as he gripped his sword even tighter.

"This is the difference between you and me," Vader said without any hint of tiredness. "You grow weak as time draws on. I am eternal."

"No, no, no. You misunderstand," Kastan uttered. "The difference between you… and me.. Is that I'm," he smiled, "Human."

Kastan blasted Vader with the Force again, but this time it was different.

"We of the True Light call this "Destroy Droid," Kastan explained, "And for apt reason."

As soon as the purple lightning-like bolts touched Vader, his body went rigid. Wisps of smoke curled from his metallic suit.

The Insurgent walked to Vader's body.

The Insurgent raised his blade.

 **!0*0!**

One eye in the scope, one eye closed in concentration.

GRG-892 raised his rifle, knowing all too well that his career hung in the balance.

What would he even be promoted to? Royal Guard? Stormtrooper Commander? In the end, it didn't matter. Anything was better than the lowly trooper.

Enderbeck's blade, poised above Lord Vader's motionless body.

Maybe when I'm a commander, GRG-892 absently thought, I can convince the others to treat it - no, _him_ \- leniently.

But first… I have to _be_ a commander.

His index finger squeezed the trigger down tightly.

GRG-892 wasn't stupid; Vader's pride would lead him to unparalleled rage if GRG-892 killed the Insurgent. For that specific reason, George set the gun to nonlethal (The level above stun) and aimed for the spinal cord.

Time froze as the rifle fired from the shadows. GRG-892 could count every last corpse on the floor, every blaster bolt whizzing through the air, and could note that Kastan's lightsaber had rolled to just a few feet in front of him, in the same amount of time that his bolt streaked towards the Insurgent.

Before GRG-892 could move to pick up the lightsaber, Kastan began to plunge his blade into Vader's immobile chest.

Then he collapsed, the tip of the sword having been just inches from its soon-to-be victim.

The bullet had found its target dead-on.

 **!0*0!**

Shadows danced across Kastan Enderbeck's vision. He'd been shot. In the back.

And he was just about to rid the galaxy of Darth Vaders, too. Damn, the luck!

Kastan watched, bleary-eyed, as the Sith Lord finally stirred under him. The back of his tunic was all but soaked in blood. He tried to Heal himself, but the movement only caused more excruciating pain. He tried to get up, to run, to do _something_ , but his legs didn't respond to what his brain told them to do.

From the corner of his vision, he saw Vader _thanking_ some trooper. The helmet was on, so Kastan wasn't able to tell who it was by face. But something about that armor… seemed eerily similar. The helmet came off, and from the back, he almost looked like…

"George?" Kastan rasped, hating how utterly _weak_ he sounded.

The trooper turned around, and it _was_ George. The one he had _defended_. He was _grinning._ What a-

"Look. My orders were clear: Shoot you and get a promotion. Believe me when I say that I actually kinda like you. But I can't do anything about that when I'm a worthless trooper, no?"

Kastan remained silent. "Doesn't change the fact that you're a two-faced bastard," he finally got out.

George shrugged good-naturedly. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Relax, I'll try to make everything run as smoothly as possible.

"And it's the one time I didn't trust HK, too," Kastan added remorsefully.

By this time, most of Vader's strike force had been killed by Shelkar, T3, and HK. The latter poked his head up.

"Query: Can you say that again, Master?"

"I was wrong, you were right, blah blah blah," Kastan sighed. "The rest of you - get back to the surface, to the others, right now. Let me go. They should be in bay X3C as of now."

Shelkar and T3 nodded, and dragged HK back to the submarine bay.

"You shot it in the spinal cord," Vader stated. "You severed said cord."

"In my defense, the gun was set to nonlethal," George replied. "Besides, at least now we have a garuantee that he won't be getting away, I suppose."

Without warning, Vader Force Pushed Kastan into the wall. He slumped to the floor.

Please go unconscious, please go unconscious, please go unconscious, George thought.

"My lord, is this really necessary?" he finally said.

"Not really," Vader replied curtly. "But I've spent more than a Standard year hunting the Insurgent; it's only right that I get to have some fun with it."

"Can you 'have some fun with him' after we get him to the Emperor? You only have one rotation to cross the galaxy, and besides, I want my promotion."

Vader seemed to contemplate GRG-892's response. Then again, maybe he was just considering how to force more pain onto the Insurgent.

"You know what, Insurgent? Let's take you home," Vader finally said.

"Why would you take me back to Alderaan?" Kastan shouted. "To see dead people?"

Was Vader _chuckling?_ Seriously?

"No, no, no," he said, still holding back laughter. "That was never your home."

Kastan felt another force on him, and he slid across the floor into another wall with a sickening crack. Kastan Enderbeck, the Insurgent, True Light Grandmaster, and one of the last living descendants of Darth Revan, remembered no more as his vision went black.

 **I will NEVER APOLOGIZE for that cliffhanger.**

 **Also, I have to address the ONE review from "Guest". It says:**

" **Kastan is a Sith Lord. Predictable AF."**

 **To answer this I'll give a one-word answer: No.**

 **Anyway, that's the third and best chapter of SW:I. Don't expect much out of this anymore, it's practically dead anyway.**

 **Also, Sir Malc, if you're reading this, you were the inspiration for Kastan's nickname "Kas." STAR WARS UPRISING FOREVER!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4, dang. It feels like only yesterday I started writing this… really was a cute idea, huh? Well, this is the last part. Hope you enjoyed. This one's a doozy.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't think I bought Disney since the last part, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say I don't own Star Wars.**

 **Chapter 4: Return**

 **!0*0!**

Kastan Enderbeck awoke to blackness. True, suffocating blackness, the kind of darkness that instinctively kept the human mind on edge, ever on the watch for the extraordinary and the impossible.

There was no feeling in either of his legs. He attempted to move them, but there was no response from either.

He rolled over, attempting to get a better feel for his surroundings, and rolled straight into a wall.

From what he could tell, the wall closest to him was flexible, and almost billowy. The other wall that he could find, however, was rigid and unmoving. Then again, his movement was severely limited by the walls, ceiling, and uncooperative legs. After investigating his surroundings and finding nothing of importance, Kastan returned to his starting position, and fell asleep.

Some time later, he awoke. Judging by how stiff he was, and the overwhelming need for another pill of Alanine, he had probably been asleep for at least twenty-four hours.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling for who knows how long, thinking cynical thoughts.

Then someone opened a door. Kastan threw up his hand to protect his eyes from the blinding, overpowering light.

"Don't move. I have GRX-608 training a blaster on you. Commander GRG-892 requested that we're on duty to give you the pills, or whatever those are."

As if a gun from the doorway would make any difference, Kastan thought. He obliged anyway.

The stormtrooper all but tossed the pills to Kastan, stopped for a moment, then shook his head and threw apart the malleable wall that Kastan had examined the day before. It had apparently been blinders of some kind, shielding Kastan's eyes from the miraculous, throbbing stars that hung in space beyond. He stared dumbly at them for a while, then popped a pill into his mouth before lying down again, to contemplate where he had heard the name GRG-892 before.

 **!0*0!**

"Lord Vader, this is Grand Moff Tarkin, come in."

"What do you want?"

"The Emperor's patience grows thin. He wants his Insurgent back. Do you realize how much something like him costs? Hundreds of millions of credits! Billions, maybe!"

"You can tell the Emperor," Vader replied with an aura of deadly calm, "That I have the Insurgent in custody as of this very instant."

"Of course, my Lord. Also, there is one thing I must ask of you."

"What is that? I'd rather not waste time."

"If Operation is to be a total success, we must have full control of the Kolto, which means no other sources of Kolto."

"I had _thought_ ," Vader said with more than a hint of anger tainting his voice, "That Manaan was the _only_ source of kolto in the galaxy."

"That was in the past. The Insurgent's adopted sister finally figured out how to synthesize kolto on Anoat. There can be no exceptions: she must die, and there must be no way anyone can pin blame on the Empire. We need to cut funding, destroy Anoat, and make sure that no one ever thinks to find kolto there ever again. As a side note, we can also use her as an interrogation device on the Insurgent himself."

"You'll need to take that to the Emperor himself. However, I do approve."

"Yes, my Lord. Over and out."

 **!0*0!**

From his prison window, the glimmering stars set fire to Kastan's eyes, reflexively forcing them shut. Before long, though, they faded to mere pinpricks of light against the vast black backdrop of space. The window was slightly convex, and to Kastan's dismay, he could clearly see the engines not too far from him. At least that explained the powerful heat coursing through the room.

The room cooled abruptly, as the engines shut off and the hyperdrive initiated, pushing the craft into space. White to blue to white. Each trip was slightly different.

Another life, fading into nothingness.

Time to reinvent himself again.

The Star Destroyer exited hyperspace unceremoniously, over the city-world of Coruscant. Something about all of this felt oh, so wrong.

With considerable effort, Kastan Enderbeck rolled over and propped himself into a sitting position. Knowing the Empire like he did, they were broadcasting into his cell at all times. For that reason, he had to not only look his best, but also look strong for any other Rebels out there. The teen glared ferociously at the flashing red light in the corner of the dark room.

Another shudder; the Star Destroyer landed. Just afterwards, a party of ten stormtroopers forced their way into his cell and placed Kastan surprisingly gently in a storage box alongside a slew of Imperial-grade weapons. If only Kastan knew anything about how to use them.

Half an hour passed before light finally reached Kastan's eyes. Just before it did, the cart began tipping and he was vaulted onto the floor. He had been moved to a larger, albeit more humid cell.

He spat out a bit of dust and pulled himself to the random pole situated in the middle of the room.

"Uh… dude? What are you doing?"

The pole started moving, dropping Kastan to the floor.

"Ow... " he groaned.

"But seriously, what were you attempting to do?" the voice emanated.

"My legs don't respond to what my brain tells me to do, so I had to use something to prop myself up," Kastan explained. "Am I going nuts?"

"No, no, no. It's all good. I understand, I think. Introductions are in order. I'm Tariga Lekrave. Yourself?"

"Kastan Enderbeck, it's nice to meet you."

They shook hands as best as they could.

There was silence for a minute or two.

"Huh. I wonder…"

"What?"

"Eh, never mind. You know how to play Pazaak?"

"Unfortunately, no. Should I?"

"I suppose I could teach you… but not now. You willing to cooperate with me?"

"Do I have a choice?" Kastan asked wryly.

"Frankly, no. You said your legs didn't do what your brain tells them to?"

"Yeah."

"Do you still have total control over the rest of your body?"

"As far as I know."

"Okay, so I suppose you can use your upper body to crawl, no?"

"In theory, yes. In practice, maybe."

"Okay. See that cot over there? Crawl to that."

Kastan obliged, only using the Force a little bit. He lay there, facedown, waiting.

A sharp pain shot through his body. Judging from Kastan's sense of touch, it originated from the base of his neck.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Tariga muttered something in Ryl. Due to the echoing acoustics of the room, it was impossible for Kastan to decipher.

Another pain coursed through his veins, this time from a bit further down. This time, Kastan managed to remain silent.

"Quick question: Did that hurt? Be honest."

"Yeah," Kastan said tiredly. To be frank, he felt like he was at a doctor's appointment.

The process continued. Excruciating pain, stupid question, and a quick "yes" on Kastan's part.

After what seemed like an innumerable number of minutes lying there, there was a lull. Kastan turned around and glanced at Tariga.

"Hey… you going to hit again?"

"I already did. Twice," he said in Ryl. This time, Kastan could actually understand him. "You suffered a rifle wound to the lower spine, somewhere around L24… The shot must have severed the cord, which explains why your upper body works fine while your lower body is nonreactive. You're probably wondering why I know this."

"It crossed my mind, several times," Kastan said boredly.

"I served as a field medic for the Rebellion a while back," Tariga said with a hint of pride. "We were soon overrun by the Empire, of course, and we were all taken prisoner. They wanted me to become a medic for them for a while now, but I've always refused. We later met at a middle ground; they send medical students and I teach them. I don't die, and the Empire gets their field medics. Seems logical to me."

Kastan grunted appreciatively. "Maybe when all of this blows over you can get yourself a job or something."

"Heh, thanks. Pazaak?"

 **!0*0!**

Kastan hung, suspended from the ceiling by a chain. Darth Vader prowled around him, like an alpha tuk'ata surrounding a young wraid, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

"Where," he started, "are the Rebels?"

Kastan remained silent.

"Is that so?" Vader said, strolling around Kastan's chained body.

In a flash of red light, Vader ignited his lightsaber. He swung it in a wide arc, and made is stop just short of Kastan's neck.

"You wouldn't kill me," Kastan spat. "You need me alive for information."

"Who said anything about information? After all the trouble you have caused for the Galactic Empire, it's only right that you receive just retribution. All the Empire wants from you is your blood."

"If you think I'm willing to join the Empire, you're dafter than you appear. And," Kastan retorted, "you appear very, VERY daft."

The door swung open before Vader could react. A hooded figure strode inwards, laughing maniacally under his breath.

"Nice to see you, Hideous. Tell me, how have you been? Have you managed to get anything done without my meddling?"

Without speaking, a bolt of Sith Lightning zapped out of Emperor Palpatine's hand and directly into Kastan's core. His abdominal muscles seized up, but he made no sound.

"As my apprentice said, all we need from you is your blood. Not _you,_ G5-81356. Why track down all the DNA when we've already found it?"

Kastan appeared stupefied. "'Track down all the DNA'? What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're not on Kamino, G5-81356. You're not at home."

"Kamino? But that's… the… cloning facility…" Kastan trailed off.

"Exactly. G5-81356, there's an actual _reason_ we've wanted you alive. We want our investment back. You're our one and only Sith Clone constructed from the genetic material of the most powerful Sith and Jedi in history, created for the sole purpose of serving me and MY design."

"You will join my Master," Vader added.

"I'm not stupid enough to fall for a mind trick."

There was no way that Kastan Enderbeck, True Light Grandmaster, could possibly be a Sith Clone, of all things. It was unfathomable!

Except.

Except - as far as he knew, there were no references to his parents, anywhere.

Except - the doctors had said that a dependence on Alanine was statistically impossible. And the Empire seemed to know about his deficiency…

Except - if the Enderbecks were descendants of Revan, and Kastan wasn't biologically an Enderbeck, how could he share the DNA of Darth Revan?

Except - the Empire had hunted him down so vehemently it had to have been _personal._

No. It couldn't be.

 _No._

"N… no…" Kastan said, utterly defeated.

"Your insubordination will cost you dearly."

Darth Sidious ignited both his lightsabers, and deftly sliced Kastan's leg clean off. G5-81356, of course, made no reaction, as his spinal cord had been severed.

Glaring at him murderously, Emperor Palpatine twisted his lightsabers and stabbed into Kastan's upper arm. That elicited the reaction that Palpatine was looking for, as G5-91356 screamed in agony. Blood spilled from the open wound and it showed no sign of stopping any time soon.

Seeing that his work was completed, Emperor Palpatine extinguished his lightsaber and without further ado, walked out of the room. He barked at someone to collect as much of the spilt blood as possible. Vader followed, red liquid smearing his boots as he marched straight through it.

The final string, holding Kastan's entire life upright and stable, snapped.

In the coming months, the Empire gassed Anoat, wiping the planet completely of all life.

The last domino, made of everything G5-81356 held dear, fell away into an inferno of failure, and dissolved into nothingness.

With what remained of his strength, Kastan looked up as _GRG-892_ strolled into the room with a vial in hand. G5-81356 would have said something, but what was the point? It would just mean more pain and suffering on his part.

Almost too gently, GRG-892 loosened the bonds holding G5-81356 to the ceiling, and laying him down on the floor. He was careful to position Kastan in a way that wouldn't stain him with his own blood.

"I'm sorry," George started.

No response.

"I didn't want to," he continued.

G5-81356 still made no attempt to say anything more.

"I'll make it up to you somehow."

"You don't have to," G5-81356 coughed.

"Yes, I _do_ , Kastan."

"Who is Kastan? I'm just G5-81356. I'm a _number_ , George."

"Welcome to my world. And you're _not_ just a number, Kas. You're Kas. Kastan Enderbeck, Force-person extraordinaire. And I'm going to make it up to you. I'm not going to betray the Empire, but I'm going to make it up to you. I got you into this mess, and I think it's in our best interests to get you out."

"But the Empire-"

"The Empire doesn't care. They have the DNA they need to make more of… you…" George said solemnly, gesturing towards the vial of blood in his hand. "Besides, I'm a commander. I can pull some strings. Maybe a quick data leak here, an unlocked door there, and Phoenix Squadron will be able to pick you up in no time."

George looked at the copious amount of blood on the floor, and grimaced. "You ought to get yourself patched up. I'll get you to Tariga Lekrave or whatever his name is as quickly as possible. For now, just let the dreams take you to wherever they go."

The last thing G5-81356 - no, _Kastan Enderbeck_ heard before blood loss and sleep took him was "I'll take any risk, if it means putting you back together one last time."

 **Well, that got sad.**

 **Anyway, that's the last chapter of this. I might do a sequel later on in life, but don't expect that for a while. I might do an epilogue at some point, but not now. As of this time, I think I'll let the story sit just where it is.**

 **Thank you for your time.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Afterword:**

 **This is the first fanfiction that I've actually finished. And geez, was it satisfying to hit the "Published" button! Anyway, I'm going to take this space to establish my plans for the future as well as any thanks I would like to dole out.**

 **First: The Future of SW:Insurgency. I plan to make this a trilogy, the next one occurring only a few days or so after the end of SW:Insurgency. The third will be TFA-time-ish, aka, First Order and Resistance as opposed to Empire and Rebellion from the first two. Don't expect the next two anytime soon; I'm very busy with highschool and other things. I've barely come up with titles for anything, but I'll start brainstorming immediately.**

 **Also, I would like to send a HUGE shoutout to a few select people. The first goes to Revu, who indirectly inspired me to post this on FF dot net. The second goes to my 8th grade LA teacher, who inspired me to not forget this idea after I couldn't use this idea for a midterm (We were told to write a fanfiction off a book for a midterm. Best Midterm ever.) The third goes to whatever guest decided to post the first review. And finally, I'd like to send a shoutout to all 148 of you who have looked at this. You're awesome, you should feel awesome, and I appreciate your unspoken support immensely.**

 **So, like it? Love it? Want to stab me with a kissaki-moroha-zukuri a la Kastan Enderbeck-style? Tell me in a review!**

 **And more importantly, thank you… for everything.**


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